


Of Theseus, Patroclus, Mazes, and Sacrifices

by zerogravityzerochill



Series: follow the thread, back to you [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bargaining, Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hostage Situations, Hurt Toby Smith | Tubbo, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mythology References, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Toby Smith | Tubbo, Self-Sacrifice, Toby Smith | Tubbo Needs a Hug, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:41:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28712946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zerogravityzerochill/pseuds/zerogravityzerochill
Summary: It is not the first time this has happened - Tommy felt the same way as he watched his father put a sword through his brother's chest, as he stood at the base of impossibly high walls as his president - his best friend - uttered the most damning words he ever heard, as he watched Logstedshire go up in flames. Like he is not in the world so much as floating above it, being pulled in a thousand directions and unable to take a single step towards any of them.Except this time, there are no explosions or walls or crushing, all-consuming grief.This time, Dream is poised above a Tubbo that can barely stand, mask perfectly detached and axe pulled back, ready for the killing strike.------------Or,L'Manburg is dust and ash, Tubbo is at Dream's mercy, and Tommy makes a bargain. He was always more suited to sacrifice, anyways.Canon Divergence for the January 6th stream.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: follow the thread, back to you [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2105799
Comments: 49
Kudos: 694
Collections: Cheshire's MCYT recs!, Completed stories I've read





	Of Theseus, Patroclus, Mazes, and Sacrifices

**Author's Note:**

> I had this incredibly vivid scene in mind and canon did not give it to me so I became the angst I wanted to see in the world.
> 
> If you want more, come visit me at @zero-gravity-zero-chill on Tumblr!
> 
> Also this is my first fanfic so please be gentle. Kudos, keysmashes, and screaming are all welcome <3!

Tommy's breath is coming short - little tight, anxious puffs that strain against his battered ribcage, even as the faintest tremble settles in his fingers and the background noise of L'Manburg's devastation is subsumed by the quietest, eeriest ringing.

It is not the first time this has happened - Tommy felt the same way as he watched his father put a sword through his brother's chest, as he stood at the base of impossibly high walls as his president - his _best friend_ \- uttered the most damning words he ever heard, as he watched Logstedshire go up in flames. Like he is not _in_ the world so much as floating above it, being pulled in a thousand directions and unable to take a single step towards any of them.

Except this time, there are no explosions or walls or crushing, all-consuming grief.

This time, Dream is poised above a Tubbo that can barely stand, mask perfectly detached and axe pulled back, ready for the killing strike.

Tommy does not know why the man lingers. Philza and Techno had long since fled the scene, satisfied with the way they had left a scarred chasm in L'Manburg's place, a barely healed scab mercilessly torn open and left to bleed.

( _This is a lie. Tommy knows why the masked man - the monster - remains. If his exile had taught him one thing, it is that Dream always thrived on toying with his prey_.)

He can already feel the panic clawing at his chest, the desperation choking him, the unadulterated fear that has to be showing clear on his face. Tommy doesn't know why he's so obsessed on this, just one scene of despair amidst a landscape of desolation-

( _This is also a lie. Tommy knows full well why it is this moment that has captured his entire being, knows it is the same reason he let Tubbo hand over the discs without a fight-_ )

But he finds himself limping forward all the same, cursing through the burns and the fractured bones, one arm outstretched and a hoarse cry on his lips-

"Stop!"

He is the only one who can do anything. Everyone else is either too far away, too injured, or too in shock to intervene. It's all on him.

( _It's always on him._ )

Two faces swivel towards him, one wide and petrified, the other implacable and cruel. Tommy thinks he sees Tubbo mouth a silent, fearful _Tommy_ , but all Tommy can focus on is the way Dream cocks his head in a way that could only be called _amused_.

"Tommy," he says mildly, as though they are discussing the weather and Dream does not hold his entire world at his mercy. "Could you not be a nuisance for a moment? I am in the middle of something. You don't interfere."

And Tommy knows, he _knows_ Dream is doing that on purpose, is trying to throw him off, but he still can't suppress the instinctive urge to _shut up, stop it, what are you doing, don't be troublesome, don't be a fuck-up, don't or he'll hurt you -_ but he beats it back, because now is not the time to get caught up in his own worthless issues. No. Not now.

Not when Tubbo is on the ground, defenseless, and Dream is vengeful and merciless and Tommy knows just how sick he can be.

"Don't kill him." Tommy croaks, and he immediately wants to hit himself for how _weak_ it sounds, how broken and terrified and utterly unconvincing it is.

Dream merely gives a dark chuckle, adjusting his grip. "And why should I not? He was foolish, naive - he brought this on himself. Really, I'm tempted to do it just to hear you scream."

This time, Tommy can't stop the violent shudder that goes through him. It really shouldn't be surprising - Dream is an arrogant, sadistic, viscious bastard, and yet somehow it never ceases to horrify Tommy, the depths he's willing to sink to just to see people suffer.

"Don't," he says again, frantically thinking for something - anything he can do keep that axe from coming down on Tubbo's neck. "I'll- I'll-"

"You'll what?" Dream taunts, mocking and smug.

_I'll kill you, I'll murder you with my bare hands, you son of a bi-_

"I'll make an exchange." He says instead, because Tommy may be hot-headed but he's not blind. He can't win a straight fight with Dream, not like this, so there's only one other way out of this- to give Dream what he really wants.

Tubbo has begun to thrash, shouting something that Tommy can't really hear because the world has narrowed down to him and Dream and he's about to make what might be the final mistake of his life.

"Oh?" Dream lilts, soundly ignoring the boy beneath him, and his tone is far too interested, too _eager_ , like the cat that got the canary. "And what do you propose, Toms?"

Tommy bites back the bile that rises in the back of his throat, and takes a shaky, steadying breath. "In exchange for sparing Tubbo and leaving us in peace, you'll-... you'll-"

Pause. Tremble. Take another deep breath.

"You'll get me."

He can _feel_ the victorious grin Dream gives him, wide and predatory.

"No!" That is not Tommy's voice, nor is it Dream's, and the world snaps back into place as Tommy glances at the one this is for, the only one worth such a sacrifice. Tubbo's eyes are wide and frantic and pleading as they lock onto Tommy's, as they take in the defeat, the resignation in them, and he struggles even harder, aggravating what must be dozens of injuries.

"Tommy- no, _no_ , this isn't- you don't have to- you can't-"

"Hush, Mr. President." Dream's voice is ecstatic as he presses his boot harder into Tubbo's chest, ignoring the pained wheezes and gasps. "We're in the middle of some negotiations."

Tubbo is still looking at him, begging and disbelieving and terrified, and it's the hardest thing in the world for Tommy to tear his gaze away, to watch the incredulation crash into desperate hopelessness, into _despair_ , and he swallows hard as he forces himself back into the moment, to shift his focus back to Dream.

"I'll come willingly." Tommy whispers, and to his utter humiliation finds he is fighting back tears. "I'll come quietly. I won't try to escape, or rebel, I- you can- you can do whatever you want with me, take me wherever, just please-" and Tommy hates, hates, hates himself for the way his voice finally breaks, for the sob that can no longer be held back, for the tears that cut thin trails through the grime on his face.

"Spare them. Spare _him_."

Dream hums, a considering noise, and for one paralyzing moment Tommy is afraid that he will say _no_ , will sink that axe in the vulnerable flesh of Tubbo's neck, will laugh and laugh and laugh as Tommy's world comes crashing down around him-

"Okay."

Everything screeches to a halt.

"What?" Tommy croaks, voice hoarse with either relief or horror. It's impossible to tell them apart.

Dream smirks, steps off Tubbo's chest - not without giving a few sharp kicks, for good measure - and makes his way over to Tommy.

"Who would've thought you'd finally learn how to use your words?" He says, and Tommy is so overcome, so stunned and frozen that he doesn't even flinch when Dream claps his hands on his biceps, grip firm and painful.

"I knew you'd come around eventually, though. Realize how you're just too troublesome to leave uncontained." And then his grip turns bruising, and Tommy hisses involuntarily as the masked man leans in closer.

"Don't forget," Dream hisses in his ear, amiable facade gone at once. "If you struggle, if you resist, get up to any kind of funny business at all, _they'll_ pay for it."

Tommy's voice fails him, he can't make any noise at all, because Dream is so close and he has Tommy and _this is really happening, Tommy really did this, Dream has him, oh gods Dream has him-_

He's snapped out of his spiral when Dream starts to walk, roughly pulling him along, and Tommy grunts as they begin to march towards the edge of the still smoking crater-

All of a sudden, like a blade out of the dark, a crossbow bolt flies past them, centimeters away from Dream's head and Tommy swears as he's yanked around to be held in front Dream, like a human shield, like a hostage.

And there's Tubbo, his Tubbo, his stupid, selfless, _amazing_ Tubbo standing on unsteady legs, aiming a crossbow - he must have grabbed one from the debris - with shaking hands but a dangerous kind of determination in his eyes.

"You can't- you can't have him- he's not _yours_ -" He starts, before cutting off into harsh, hacking coughs, and a spike of terror goes through Tommy as he notices a thin trail of blood coming from his lips, and he starts towards him because _is he okay, he's not okay, what if the injuries were more severe than they looked-_

He's doesn't have long to linger on it, though, as he's brought up short by the axe previously at Tubbo's neck now being held at his own. Tommy freezes, and so does Tubbo when he collects himself, eyes going wide with terror and regret as Dream pulls Tommy back into his chest.

"Try something like that again," he growls, and Tommy stiffens unconsciously at the memories it brings back. "And I will kill him. I will take his last life right here, right now. Do you really want his blood on your hands?"

He digs the axe closer, drawing a thin line of blood to prove his point, and Tommy feels something he didn't even know he had shatter inside him as Tubbo lets the crossbow drop, whole body going slack with helplessness and horror.

Dream starts dragging him again, walking backwards and keeping the axe close, and Tubbo is getting smaller and smaller among the rubble and _gods_ , Tommy can feel himself _dying_ inside-

They're almost at the crater edge when Dream turns them around, dropping the axe and pulls Tommy's arms around to tie them behind his back, and Tommy can already feel himself giving in, when he hears it.

A voice.Tubbo's voice.

It is cracked and broken and sounds like he's been crying, but still as relentlessly strong as always.

"Tommy!"

( _It sounds like hope_.)

He turns his head over his shoulder as much as he can, ignoring the way Dream tries to shove him forward, because-

Because there he is. A small, defiant speck among the destruction, and Tommy can feel his breath catching in anticipation.

"I'll find you! No matter where he takes you, I'll find you! Just- just hold on a little longer! Just _stay alive_ , and I'll come get you! I'll get you back! I promise!"

And Tommy-

Tommy _breaks_.

He sobs in earnest, ugly and loud and without restraint even as he forces his feet forward, even as he hangs his head as Dream pulls out an Ender Pearl and secures his grip, planning on taking them gods only know where.

Because his Tubbo yelling, is promising Tommy he'll come from him, that he'll save him, that he won't abandon him and- and-

It's more than he can bear.

\------------

The cell is dark, and small, and represents everything Tommy despises as he presses his cheek against cold obsidian, staring with vacant and apathetic eyes as his captor contemplates him through the small slit in the heavy door.

"You know," Dream begins, tone light and conversational, as if Tommy cares for his words. "Techno calls you Theseus, but I think you're more like Patroclus."

"How so?" Tommy plays along in a dead tone, because he knows Dream will continue whether he answers or not. ( _And definitely not because he's afraid of what will happen if he doesn't, not at all_.)

Dream hums. "Patroclus always did make the biggest sacrifices, threw himself into danger even when he knew he was doomed, all because he loved so, so strongly. So foolishly."

Tommy narrows his eyes, because Dream would never praise him, not ever, not without something else behind it.

"But," Dream continues, his tone shifting dangerously and Tommy suddenly feels very, very small. "Here's the thing about Patroclus: He can fight and fight and love all he wants, but he only has one fate: to die, alone, helpless and a failure, impossible to be saved and impossible to love. Just. Like. _You_."

And with that Dream leaves, the clang of prison doors like a death knell behind him. Tommy curls in on himself, chest squeezing around his heart and his breath hitching pathetically, because the cell is so very dark and cold and small and Tommy is so, so alone-

_"I'll find you! No matter where he takes you, I'll find you! Just- just hold on a little longer! Just stay alive, and I'll come get you! I'll get you back! I promise!"_

He breathes in, slowly, one-two-three-four, and whispers those words to himself, traces them into the floor with his fingers, presses them into his hands and the skin of his knees. Anything to keep them alive, to keep them _real_.

( _Little does he know, thousands and thousands of blocks away, the scarred president of a scarred people clutches a battered and burnt compass to his chest, his lips moving in a silent, everlasting promise_.)


End file.
